Page 7 of Somewhere Between Falling

Not for the first time, I found myself envious that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted out of life. The only thing I was really good at was reading, and according to my mother, that wasn’t an employable talent. Reading is a hobby you can afford to do after you have secured a financially lucrative career, she’d tell me. My mind shifted to what Tobias had said in the bookstore, and I realized maybe she had a point. As much as I enjoyed coffee, I knew I didn’t want to work in a coffee shop for the rest of my life. Mostly because people annoy me and I would be terrible in a customer service occupation. Also, despite my non-confrontational tendencies, I found it difficult to control my face. If you’re an idiot, it’s clear as day that I think so. Which would probably get me fired on my first day.

“What are you frowning about?” Alex asked in between sips.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to brush the memory out of my mind.

“No, it’s definitely something. You aren’t still thinking about those bitches from the bookstore, are you?”

“No, not them. I—” I sighed. “I was just thinking about something someone said.”

“That’s descriptive.” Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m going to need a few more details, sis.”

With another sigh, I began to rehash everything about my day with Tobias.

“Bookstore Boy sounds cute. Did you get his number?”

“Nope,” I said, not wanting to admit I lost it not even two minutes after he handed it to me. “We didn’t even exchange last names, so no stalking on social media either,” I said pointedly. I knew how her mind worked.

“With a name like Tobias, I bet I could still find him.” And she was probably right, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to find him. “Give me a few more details.”

“I think it’s better to just leave it as one perfect day. If it was anything more than that, he’d probably turn into a toad.”

“Tamsin, you’re so jaded.” Alex shook her head.

A part of me knew she wasn’t wrong, but the way I looked at it was why would I want to put myself into that position where getting hurt was a possibility anyway? After all, I saw firsthand what a broken heart could do to someone, how it could fundamentally change a person.

“C’mon,” she said, pulling me up with her. “I have to unpack.”

Chapter Six

I couldn’t tell if I was excited or nervous about starting my Russian lit class today. If mom knew about my schedule change, she hadn’t said anything yet.

After skimming through the syllabus, I was beginning to question my decision, though. Philosophy of Law would probably be an easier course load, that’s for sure.

Course Description

An examination of significant trends in Russian literature from the second half of the 19th century to the Russian Revolution and beyond. The course focuses on many masterpieces of 19th- & 20th-century Russian literature.

Reading List

?Turgenev, Fathers and Children

?Dostoevsky, Brothers Karamazov

?Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

?Chekhov, Selected short stories and drama

?Bely, Petersburg

?Nabokov, The Defense

Reading/Writing Assignments

Weekly reading averages 150 pages a week. Final exam is a 10–15 page paper over a topic selected by you, the student, in consultation with me, the professor. Your final is given more weight than the midterm. Class participation is extremely important, so plan on participating daily.

Reading 150 pages a week wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for me. Of course, I didn’t typically read classic Russian literature. All the same, it wasn’t the reading I was necessarily worried about but rather the ten-to-fifteen-page final exam paper. I’ve never written a paper longer than five pages in my entire academic career.I was still reading through the syllabus when the heavy classroom door opened.

“Morning, everyone. Dr. Kiuchi had a bad tumble down a mountain in Breckenridge and has broken his leg. He’s scheduled for surgery later this week, so until he returns, you’re all stuck with me.” He flashed a quick grin, and it was answered with a murmur of polite laughter amongst everyone around me. I, on the other hand, was trying not to vomit. “I’m Tobias Clark, his TA,” he continued as he searched through a stack of papers on the desk.

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